No Title
by Kamia Keehl
Summary: Hiruma's injured, bad. Will he be able to go to the Christmas Bowl? Read inside, and review. Slight HiruMamo, Rated T for Hiruma's potty-mouth and lots of blood. In search of title. Discountinued because files at home.
1. Pain

**Made**: 21 June 2009  
**Discalimer**: I'm not the owner, I know, I know.. I'm only the author of this story.

* * *

The night had falls and the moon is out, revealing its bright light.

Trying hard to walk on his two feet, Hiruma grasp some branch to steady his pace. Pains are emitting from his right shoulder, left leg and some other parts. He flinched when he feels another twinge. He could feel tears on his eye, but try hard not to let it out as his whole body ached. He feels so damn tired and cold, because it's raining. _Fuck, why it has to rain now?!_

No one really sees him because he's on his way to the Devilbats Clubhouse. He cursed again, feeling his warm blood flowing trough the open wounds.

Tears crept down his face. _Fuck, fuck, why won't the tears stop?!!_ He yells at himself, feeling weak and stupid. He should have seen those punks, he should have grab his own guns and shoot them down. But it's too late. Too _fucking_ late. Although he's a bit relieved, because it's raining – so no one could see his tears.

It's only a little more till he get to the clubhouse, but he stumbles and falls to the mushy grass. He winced in pain when the wounds struck the ground. He coughed and looks at the grass, where it's once green, now red with his own blood. He coughed again, feeling the taste of blood inside his mouth. Try to catch his breath, he lay down on the grass, didn't care as the rain keeps pouring. He grinned, smiling at his own stupidity. _My fucking clothes are definitely red now, and fucking wet, _he thought to himself. Maybe if he's not this careless, he'll survived and get those people a real fight. But now, he even can't stand properly.

His eyes got blurry, but he manages to stand up slowly – almost stumble back.

_This is fucking hurts,_ he groaned. Touching his wounds with his hand, he could feel the warm and sticky blood. He looks at the sky, feeling the water cleaning his dirty face from blood and mud. Then he looks at the clubhouse, trying to reach the doorknob. And he succeeds, feeling the cold metal on his hand.

"Fuck, this is tiring," He mumbles to himself before he coughed again.

Turning the doorknob, he walks in and quickly closed the door behind him, breathing heavily. He grunts, try to subdue the pain… but it's useless. He falls to the floor, exhausted from the loss of blood. He tries to stand up, but still no use as he stumbles back, feeling another pain. He sighed, _I guess I can't go to the Christmas Bowl after all… it's a shame._

Tears coming from his face as he try hard not to cry; cry for his stupidity, cry of pain, cry because he cannot go to the Christmas Bowl – the dream he, Kurita and Musashi's been waiting. He coughed again, feeling blood coming from his mouth. Some of his blond hair had turned red because of the blood. He tries to reach for his cell phone to call an ambulance. But no, his hand won't cooperate with him as it goes numb. He winces in pain again. _Shit,_ he cursed and tries to breathe normally.

_Now I have some fucking blood inside my fucking lungs?!_

His visions became blurry as he tries to stay awake. Once again, it's no use as his consciousness slowly fades away.

**

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Note**: I'm so sad that I have to make Hiruma suffer like this. But the story must go on - there'll be next chapter.. be patience, Hiruma. (**Hiruma**: Tch, like I'll die that easily, kekeke..) and btw, I hope I don't make it OOC or weird, but yes, my writing is weird, bear with it. Review if you like, review if you don't like, just review it if you're bored too.

- animchan


	2. Blood

**Made**: 21 June 2009  
**Discalimer**: Not the owner, sorry. But I just hope I own Hiruma, kekeke.. but no, I'm not.

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Mamori runs trough the rain, rushing to the clubhouse. Yes, once again she left her notebook full of game plans and her Math homework. She must get it quickly or she'll never finish that damn homework! Swiftly she runs trough the field. For a moment she thought she sees a glimpse of red, but she shook her head and headed for the clubhouse.

Her footsteps stopped abruptly.

"My God…" She murmured, shocked when she sees some blood in front of the door and on the doorknob. "Someone's injured? Who is it? Or is it a burglar that's trying to escape?!" She shakes her head, "No, it can't be. Why a burglar wants to hide in a _clubhouse_ anyway? But… who's blood…?"

Slowly she puts her hand on the doorknob, feeling the sticky blood. _It's new,_ she thought. Her mind racing to the worst possibility, there's a murderer inside. But again, she shook her head; try to calm her imagination down. She gulped. Nervous, her hand slipped from the handle, but then she's back, almost turning the doorknob but then she gulped again and quickly turns it and pushes the door slowly.

Her eyes widen in shock, "Hiruma!"

* * * * *

She looked at the man on the couch, bandages all over his body. She ruffled her hair and looks once more at Hiruma, who's laying unconscious. She already called the ambulance, and now waiting for it to come. Her hand touches his hair – some red at the edge. Then move to touches his cheek, where some bruises could be found and then she traces his eyebrows, his nose until it stops on his lips – where there's a slit mark.

"Hiruma…" She recalls the time she found him.

_Her eyes widen in shock, "Hiruma!"_

_Quickly she dashed to his side, looking at the pool of blood. She shivered in fear, afraid that if she touches him, he'll shatter. Her hand traces his cheek, try to wake him up. She knocks her head, "Of course it's useless… he lost lots of blood!" Then she grabs a towel from the shelves and swiftly wipes the blood away, scrunch her nose when she smells the stinging blood. After the floor is – almost – cleaned, she lifted Hiruma, trying hard not to fall and then tug him on the couch; again, trying hard not to make his wounds worse._

_Her hand goes to his heart, _ah, still beating… but it's too weak,_ she thinks._

_She walks to the shelves again, grabbing some bandages. Then she headed towards Hiruma, who looks like in pain – eyebrows scrunching and some sweat on his forehead. She could see traces of tears on his face. Quick, she opened his clothes and bandages his wounds – not easy because he's unconscious. _

_"Hiruma, Hiruma, please hold on." She whispered, try hard not to cry. If he finds her crying, he'll only say, "Don't cry, you fucking crybaby."_

Then another flashback was running on her mind; when she first met Hiruma, when she found out that Hiruma's the captain of the Devilbats, when she first assigned her job as the manager because of Sena, when he started to call him 'fucking manager' and all memories about him. The way he laughs, the way he's screaming 'Ya-Ha!!' and his smirks, more over his confidence and pride. How she missed his voice and he calling her names.

Mamori smiles, even so a tear flow on her face.

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**Note**: Bleh, I hope I don't make it too romantic. Since I wanted it to be just slight HiruMamo. The others will come later, but I still can't believe that I make Hiruma suffers like this! Anyway, thanks to **Bar-Ohki** (who reviewed almost all of my HiruMamo fanfics), and to **diningroom **for first review! Thanks to both of you! :)

- animchan


	3. The Hospital

**Made**: 21 June 2009  
**Discalimer**: I'm not the owner of Eyeshield 21, so sorry.. because if I am, it'll be a shoujo, LOL

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Hiruma eyes shot open, suddenly he changes to sitting position, makes him winced in pain as he remembered his wounds. His eyes look at the clean bandages. Then he realized that he's in bed, not even at the clubhouse, or on the floor in the pool of blood anymore. Another pain strikes and makes him flinch, quickly holding his right arm.

His right arm.

He looked down, feeling weak, useless. Now he definitely can't go to the Christmas Bowl with this condition – he even feels a little feverish. His eyes wonder around the white room as he finds an auburn haired girl sleeping on the couch beside the table, mouth slightly opened. He could use this to blackmail her, but he's in no condition to blackmail anyone. He's too tired, exhausted from last night attempt to go inside the clubhouse. But wait… _why is she even here? Is she the one who found me?_ He thought to himself.

He tried to remember what happened last night.

- - - - -

_A certain blond man could be seen not far from the park, popping some bubbles as his eyes mesmerizing the moon up there. He chews more gums and then walks slowly trough the park, watching people, looking at some stores as he keeps walking at his pace, didn't bother when people are looking at him like he's from other world – since he's carrying his AK-47. His earrings are dangling silently on his ears. Rather than a smirk, there's only a straight line on his face, indicating that he's bored. He yawns and started to make another bubble, just to see it pops._

_Minutes later he's inside his apartment, putting the AK-47 near the table and then opening his laptop to start typing. There's another yawn from his lips as he try not to shoot down the room. He 'tch'-ed, "Fuck, this is boring."_

_He closes his laptop, decided to take some fresh air outside. He grabs his jacket, put on his shoes and then he closed and locks the door behind him. He jumps trough the stairs, sometimes looking at the window where the moon could be seen. He cracked a smile as he reaches the last stairs. Swiftly he walks trough people, and then went to the groceries store, buying more sugarless gum._

_His hand pulls out a gum as he chews it._

_Feel being followed he fasten his pace, turning to an alley and face three man. He sneered, "What do you fucking guys want?" He let out his M-16, but then someone hit his head, makes him stumble. He grunts, _fuck, why didn't I see it coming?!

_'Bang!'_

_His eyes widen, pain emitting from his right arm. He clutched it tightly and tries to shoot, but his right arm feels numb… and he can't shoot with his left arm! Quickly he punched the guy behind him, makes him stumble back and decided that he should shoot before his other hand is useless too._

_"Shit!" He cursed when he could feel a punch on his face, then his stomach, back to his face. He falls to the ground, spitting out some blood. He shifted the gun to his left hand; manage to shoot two people on their legs and arms. He hears another loud 'Bang!' before he feels the bullet sliced his legs and another that successfully went trough his stomach. He still could run, so he dashed trough the crowd of people, ignoring their shocked eyes – and pain – as he keeps running. The only place he could think of is the clubhouse._

- - - - -

He remembers that he passed out when he's inside the club, and that damn cold floor feels good on his cheek. Then he remembers a time when he heard his name being called, but didn't know by who. He too, remembers a soft touch on his cheek. And the next thing he knew, he's here, at the hospital.

"Tch, this is bothersome." He ruffles his hair, noticing that the color had turned back to normal – not red. Once again, he scans his surroundings, feeling familiar - realizes that it's the hospital and he's in the fucking bed that he hates so much. His gaze back to the sleeping girl and moved to the flowers and cards near his bed. He raises an eyebrow, _there's from the fucking fatty, fucking old man, fucking pipsqueak and other fucking things. Ugh, fucking pink balloon? Must be from the fucking rollerblade._ He watches all of the things in awe but he stopped and turns his head when he hears his name being called.

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**Note**: Kekekeke, another one from me! Sorry for misspelled words or grammar problems. Hmm.. I want to make another fic, but I don't know what. Keh, I guess I just have to wait till the story comes to me.. :)

- animchan


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